


Company

by lusteralliance (orphan_account)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (like all of them), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beds, Exhaustion, F/F, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I think., Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), not beta read and not gonna lie? really hate this now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lusteralliance
Summary: After a gruesome battle, Dimitri checks up on all his injured comrades and are glad to see they all have company (except one).
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic & Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Implied Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	Company

**Author's Note:**

> it's been eons, my friends...
> 
> stan dimiashe
> 
> if anyone's outta character it's bc im lazy and it's late ibhsdhfh

Sylvain was sitting on a small wooden stool at Felix’s bedside when Dimitri passed. 

The ruddy-haired lancer looked up briefly, and his half-hearted smile was briefer before his exhausted gaze returned back to Felix’s face. The swordsman was unconscious, and blood-soaked bandages covered his chest. His pale, bandaged hand was clasped gently between two of Sylvain’s, no longer gripping a bloodied sword.

“How are your wounds?” Dimitri asked quietly, sitting on the edge of Felix’s bed. Sylvain shrugged without looking up, failing to hide his wince of pain.

“Nothing to worry about, Highness,” he replied with a hollow cheerfulness that made even Dimitri’s heart sink. He had been pierced in the shoulder by an arrow, and he had injured his ankle trying to carry Felix off the rubble-littered battlefield. “Nothing to worry about.”

Dimitri nodded, his gaze flitting from Felix’s face back to his wounds. Thanks to Mercedes and Annette’s diligence, he would be all right. But he would hurt for a while, and Dimitri did not need to ask to know that Sylvain had taken it upon himself to help him hurt less.

“Yours?”

Dimitri shrugged as well. "I will be all right.” He had broken his wrist and suffered a wound to his side, but Sylvain did not need to know. “You must get your fair share of rest, as well. I’m sure Felix would not be pleased to hear that you’ve been neglecting your own health.” Sylvain nodded slowly, closing his hazel eyes.

“I guess. I’ll just...sit here a little longer.”

Dimitri nodded back, and he patted his old friend’s uninjured shoulder. “Get some sleep once your vigil’s over, then.”

“...Will do, Your Highness.”

Ingrid was being tended to by Mercedes in her bed, watching the healer’s gentle hands as they emanated a calming light, passing over a wound on her arm.

Dimitri stood by the doorway, and he was about to leave when Ingrid looked up, the bandage on her cheek standing out starkly on her flushed face.

“Your Highness!”

Mercedes looked up from her healing in the dimly lit room, a rainy dawn’s light seeping listlessly in through a curtained window. She smiled, waving a little. There were dark bags under her eyes, and her smile was a little strained. She had been working tirelessly after their last battle, and hadn’t a chance to rest.

“Hello Ingrid, Mercedes...is everything all right?”

“Everything is perfectly fine,” Mercedes responded, returning her attention to Ingrid’s wound. It was just a small gash, and Mercedes had already stopped the bleeding. Dimitri didn’t remember who it was who had healed his wounds, but he decided to ask later, so as to thank them for their help.

“Good. Mercedes, once you are finished, you ought to take a rest. You’ve no doubt overworked yourself...I thank you,” Dimitri told her. Mercedes nodded, tucking a stray lock of short beige hair behind her ear before resuming her healing. 

“I will, thank you, Dimitri.” Dimitri looked back at Ingrid; his childhood friend was thankfully not in as bad shape as the others, as her pegasus was an agile creature, as was she. He was sure that she would make a quick recovery.

Dimitri nodded at her, and Ingrid nodded back with an understanding smile.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured the prince.

“I know.” Dimitri was about to leave when Mercedes spoke up again.

“Actually—hold on, Dimitri...will you relay your message to me to Annie? She tends to get oddly hyper if she doesn’t sleep.”

Dimitri chuckled at the doorway. “I’ll be sure to. Do you know where she is?”

“Yes, she ought to be with Dedue.”

“Thank you, Mercedes.”

Annette was sitting on the side of Dedue’s bed, her blue eyes oddly bright with attention as Dedue spoke. When Dimitri glanced into his advisor’s room, Dedue stopped talking, and Annette spun around with a small “eep!”

“Hello,” Dimitri greeted them.

“Hello, Your Highness,” Annette and Dedue responded politely in unison.

“Mercedes has a message for you, Annette. She wants you to sleep as soon as possible, and get some much-needed rest. How are Dedue’s wounds?”

“Oh, they’re fine, now,” Annette answered, picking at a bandage on her chin with a gloved finger. Even she hadn’t escaped the battle without a scratch. “Dedue was just telling me a story.” Dimitri let his gaze rest on Dedue, who looked at him with a pleasant smile.

“Dedue, you must be resting, too. Your stories can wait, but sleep cannot.”

“I will make sure to get an adequate amount of rest, Your Highness.”

“Good...what was the story about, Dedue?”

“Duscur,” Dedue replied, simply. Dimitri watched his expression closely, and there was only peace. Annette’s bubbly presence must have calmed him after battle.

“I’d like to hear it too, someday.”

Dedue shook his head. “You’ve heard this tale already, Your Highness.”

Dimitri placed a hand on the doorframe as he turned to walk away. “I’m sure, but it does not hurt to listen more than once, does it?”

“I suppose not, Your Highness.”

Ashe was alone.

Dimitri saw through the crack of his door that he was lying on his back in bed, covered in bandages and a thin blanket. He tapped his knuckle lightly on the door twice, and in a voice husky with pain, Ashe rasped, “Come in…”

Every other one of Dimitri’s comrades had company, save for Ashe and himself. Perhaps he could serve as Ashe’s company, then. The prince of Faerghus entered, and closed the door lightly behind him.

“Are you all right, Ashe?” Dimitri asked, approaching the bed. Ashe had fallen off his horse when his steed had grown stressed in battle, rearing and galloping off into the chaos and leaving Ashe vulnerable. Dimitri had barely seen him, clutching his leg in the singed grass, before enemies were upon him. 

If not for the intervention of the Professor—who was currently sorting out business in the monastery, but had taken time to visit each and every one of their old students before setting off that morning—then Ashe surely would have perished. He was barely in one piece, and as Dimitri sat down by his pillow and looked into his glazed olive eyes, he saw that his spirit was broken, too.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Ashe lied.

“...You were very courageous, Ashe...thank you for your bravery,” Dimitri told him. Ashe stared at the ceiling. Something was off about him.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What is troubling you?”

Ashe’s tired eyes closed, and his trembling, bandaged hands squeezed weak fistfuls of his blanket. He had been nocking arrows so quickly that his fingers had started to bleed.

“I don’t...no, it’s nothing.”

“Tell me, Ashe.”

Ashe opened his eyes again, and they glistened with tears. He turned his pale, freckled face to look up at Dimitri, and he looked smaller than ever.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to war.”

Dimitri nodded slowly. “I understand,” he lied. He had grown accustomed to slaughter. He was numb to it now. It pained him, the fact that killing did not.

Ashe’s bloody lip trembled, and a tear ran down his face. “I hate it...I just want it all to be over. I don’t want to end another life.”

Dimitri shook his head. “I know, Ashe...I’m sorry. We’ll end this war, and you won’t have to kill again.” He hesitated, then brushed away Ashe’s tears with his thumb.

Ashe’s frightened olive eyes closed halfway, and his body relaxed just a little.

“Get some rest, all right?” Dimitri got up to leave, and Ashe’s fingers twitched over his bandaged chest.

“Wait…”

Dimitri sat back down.

Ashe’s silver hair was spiked with dried sweat and blood, and a few locks slipped over his left eye when he turned his head feebly on his pillow.

“Can—Your Highness—can you…?”

“Stay?”

Ashe looked at him through heavy eyelids. Dimitri nodded; it was the least he could do. Ashe was not himself, and he needed someone to be with him, just for a little while.

“Of course, Ashe.” He placed his hand over Ashe’s, and Ashe’s eyes closed. Dimitri watched him calm, and finally fall asleep. And even when the others shut their doors to rest themselves, Dimitri stayed, sitting at his injured friend’s bedside and holding his bandaged hand.


End file.
